Dark Marks
by Elfhelm
Summary: Severus Snape has long been cursed by the Dark Lord, but now the effect is unbearable. Eventual Slash.
1. Part One

A/N: I do plan on continuing this, but I'm not very good at keeping my interest on one thing at a time. Anyway, yes, this will eventually be slash, and the rating may go up, but it's not too likely. Mieh, only time will tell.  
  
  
  
Dark Marks - Chapter One  
  
The body on the ground screamed in pain, it begged with its captor, it shook and convulsed, yet Severus held his wand steady. His face was masked, though it made little difference on his expression. His stomach twisted with disgust; disgust for the creature that lay before him, disgust that he dare turn from their Master, and disgust for himself, that he enjoyed watching the former Death Eater, enjoyed performing the Unforgivable Curses.  
  
There was a soft sweeping noise behind Severus, and soon a tall figure stood beside him. He was distinguishable from the circle of black-clad shadows that encircled the scene only for the lack of a mask. Snape did not dare break his concentration on the spy before him, not even when Lord Voldemort laid a long, pale hand on his shoulder.  
  
"That's enough, my pet," his voice all but hissed into Snape's ear, "I'll finish off the traitor."  
  
Slowly lowering his wand, Snape allowed the corners of his mouth to quirk into a sneer as he retreated back into the circle, taking his place between Malfoy and Avery. It was symbolic, perhaps, that this formation was used only in small gatherings, Voldemort's 'inner circle,' as it were.  
  
With a flash of green light, and a muttered, "Avada Kedavra," the spy fell silent, lifeless.  
  
*  
  
They were now sitting in the parlour of the Malfoy estate. Some fourteen Death Eaters looked around expectantly, masks long abandoned.  
  
Snape sat in a winged armchair close to the fireplace, his expression nearly unreadable, but tinged with the distinct look of distaste. He was looking at Lucius Malfoy, of course. The older man sat on the edge of his bar, his eyes held unmistakable superiority. It was quiet.  
  
Without warning, Lord Voldemort apparated into the centre of the room. All eyes turned toward their master.  
  
"Faithful Death Eaters..." his voice was calm, barely audible, but they heard just fine. "The time has come. As you know, we have successfully infiltrated Durmstrang, and Hogwarts is next."  
  
The slightest of murmurs past through the room as the men whispered quietly to one another. Snape, however, knew of this already; you didn't become Voldemort's favourite whore without overhearing a thing or two.  
  
As expected, the Dark Lord walked silently next to Severus and trailed a finger lazily along his jawline. Snape closed his eyes and sucked in his breath, but did not dare move away as cold lightning shot through his veins.  
  
"My Potions Master..." he shuddered involuntarily - Voldemort was always possessive, "has agreed to take up a teaching position there."  
  
Malfoy snorted and mouthed a foul word to a wizard Snape didn't recognize by sight.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
Voldemort stalked over to Lucius and leaned down so that he could hear him, although, Snape doubted if Malfoy would be able to comprehend anything said to him, in such a state. "One would think, Malfoy, that you would have learned by now not to insult my possessions in front of me."  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened in pain, and the Dark Lord left him there for a quite a while before releasing him from the Cruciatus Curse. A few Death Eaters helped him to his feet.  
  
**  
  
Severus awoke with a start in the dark stillness of the dungeons. He winced at the painful throbbing on his left forearm, but did not cry out. Far worse things had been done to him, and a silly nightmare certainly wasn't going to break him.  
  
He got up and ran a hand through his hair, rummaging through a wardrobe opposite the bed. He may as well get up; it was going to be a long day anyway. Snape scowled in the darkness, today, Remus Lupin joined the teaching staff - for good.  
  
-------------- To be continued? 


	2. Part Two

A/N: *cackles insanely* I'm sitting here peacefully, gazing at my "dagger- slashing action" (two daggers, one bow, and four "shootable" arrows) Legolas figure, and my newly bought Potions Master, Severus Snape figure (three potion vials, a cape, and a weird token-thingy) and thinking about how much my eyes hurt. Which is why this chapter is short... kay, so all my chapters are short. Mieh (...why is Snape's name "Professeur Rogue" in French? Why Rogue?). Anyway, yes, what is this Curse that Snape suffers from?  
  
  
  
|||||Dark Marks||||| ----------------------- Chapter the Second  
  
Snape scowled to himself. It was not even dawn, and already he was dreading breakfast. He had tried to take his mind off Lupin's arrival by brewing the Wolfsbane potion Dumbledore had asked of him, but that didn't work... perhaps he was becoming bored with potions, or maybe just needed something more complicated to completely occupy his mind like they used to. Either way, Snape was not happy.  
  
Wolfsbane.  
  
Snape pushed some black hair out of his face, now damp from standing over a simmering cauldron. He thought he had brewed that potion for the last time three years ago, but the Werewolf was back. Despite all of his protests, despite his very valid arguments, the beast was returning to Hogwarts to take up a position that should be his. Who else knew more of the Dark Arts? Who else could teach those miserable prats how to defend themselves with only one, well-placed counter curse?  
  
Perhaps that is why he is constantly overlooked - Dumbledore simply doesn't trust him. Snape smirked, of course he doesn't, nor should he. After all, he had never given the old bat any real reason to.  
  
Severus sat heavily behind his desk and pushed a stack of parchment further away - he was far too deep in his brooding thoughts to grade the Gryffindors' miserable essays now.  
  
He hated Lupin with an intensity only surpassed by his flat-out loathing of Sirius Black, which certainly did nothing to motivate him to create the Wolfsbane concoction in any haste. In fact, he wouldn't have agreed to help the beast at all if Dumbledore hadn't asked.  
  
Though, perhaps asked was not the right word. Snape was under no delusions of who his life belonged to, and it certainly was not his own. He answered to two masters, played two roles, and all to stay alive. Lately, however, Snape was wondering if death was precisely the thing that would free him, but he was too damn proud to die of his own hand, and Dumbledore knew it.  
  
Kicking the side of his desk in frustration, the Potions Master wondered yet again how his death would come about. By Voldemort's hand... or by Dumbledore's? Oh yes, Severus knew better than the rest of these fools, the Hogwarts Headmaster was not so different from the Dark Lord; both possessed powers that only rivaled each other's, both had some delusion of light and dark, white and black, and both thought he was loyal to them alone.  
  
He was certain he was as good as dead, after all, even Severus couldn't be the double agent forever, eventually, someone would catch on; he only prayed it would be Dumbledore, for he knew Lord Voldemort would never be merciful enough to use Avada Kedavra - even Snape himself rarely used that Curse anymore, it wasn't very... fun.  
  
Of course, Snape had been sincere in his sobbing confusion to the Headmaster some many years prior, but he had since seen that it was completely idiotic of him to choose sides, idiotic and dangerous - like adding dragon's teeth to a sleeping draught. Come to think of it, that might be the perfect way to rid himself of Lupin...  
  
Snape allowed himself a brief fantasy about poisoning the creature, and watching the life slowly seep out of him, as his potion coursed through its veins - of course, such an act was far too risky, but it never hurt to dream... at least about death.  
  
Smiling, Severus shoved his wand into his robes, left his office, and headed out of the dungeons.  
  
***  
  
Professor Severus Snape swept into the Great Hall, black robes trailing behind him as he strode purposefully passed the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables, and seated himself at the end of the long teacher's table.  
  
His face was schooled into its mask of stern dislike, and his eyes held the usual flashes of malice. Normally, when a Slytherin student smiled or nodded to him in greeting, his features would soften long enough to acknowledge them, but today, they were cowering under his glare as much as the pathetic Neville Longbottom.  
  
This day, more than any other, Snape wished he had not been Head of Slytherin House, at least then he could stay in his rooms for breakfast. Away from the subtle, warning glances from Dumbledore, and the obvious anxiety that McGonagall kept throwing his way.  
  
Merlin, did they think he would actually strangle the life out of Lupin in front of the student body? Then again... they were probably right to watch him.  
  
Snape glanced at the Slytherin table and was surprised to find Draco Malfoy smirking at him. So, young Malfoy was fully aware of the addition to the teaching staff, and was probably just as anxious as McGonagall for the Werewolf to show up; Draco was about as fond of the beast as Severus.  
  
As the Great Hall began to fill, Professor Dumbledore excused himself, and hurried out a side door, only to return moments later with a rather tired looking Professor Lupin.  
  
"Good morning students!" The Headmaster's cheery voice rang throughout the Hall; the House tables quieted dramatically, and most of their occupants looked positively delighted to see their old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. Snape scowled and became very interested in glaring at the beast's head. Maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, Lupin's head would explode. The corner of his lip twitched; he could hardly be blamed for that, though he did know of just the hex...  
  
"As you can plainly see, Remus Lupin has once again found his way into Hogwarts, and I was only too pleased to reinstate him as your professor in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore's eyes sparkled in an amused sort of way as the Hall broke into a loud cheer.  
  
Except, of course, for about half of the Slytherin table, though the Headmaster suspected they simply knew how to stay in Snape's good graces. Sure enough, Malfoy quieted his cheering Housemates with a sharp glare, and a gesture toward Professor Snape, whose expression could have petrified a Basilisk.  
  
By dinner that evening, Snape's mood had not improved. His classes were even quieter than usual, and Longbottom - even more on edge than normal - managed to send three Gryffindors and two Slytherins to the infirmary within the first half hour of their double-Potions. At the end of the class, Gryffindor was down forty points, and Slytherin had lost ten; Crabbe couldn't seem to get the idea through his thick skull not to disturb the class that day.  
  
During the meal, Severus controlled his rage by impaling a baked potato, imagining it to be Lupin's head.  
  
"Severus?" The annoyingly soft voice of Professor Dumbledore woke Snape out of a particularly pleasant fantasy involving the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
He contained a sneer and looked up at the old wizard.  
  
"Severus, I was wondering if the potion would be completed soon," Snape hated that tone. Dumbledore spoke as though it was the most casual thing in the world, and anyone else would have thought so, but Severus caught the meaning behind his gentle words: Have the potion done for tomorrow.  
  
He forced an impartial look into his eyes, "Yes, Headmaster."  
  
Dumbledore smiled and patted Severus's shoulder, "Wonderful!"  
  
Snape was just about to leave the head table when he heard that sanctimonious voice call after him, "Severus? Could I have a word?"  
  
Remus Lupin caught up to halfway past the Slytherin table, having to dodge various legs that shot out to trip him.  
  
Snape smirked softly before answering, let McGonagall say what she will about the Slytherins, at least they were loyal to one another - after all, the rest of the school seemed to hate them no matter what they did.  
  
"No, you most certainly may not," his own voice was icy, edged.  
  
"Severus, really, I thought -"  
  
"Congratulations, Lupin, that's obviously a first," Snape quickly exited the Hall, and swung around a corner with a sort of fluid grace. Remus was still on his heel.  
  
The Werewolf reached out and grabbed Snape's naked wrist in order to stop him, "I just want-"  
  
But he didn't get a chance to say, for the moment he touched Snape's wrist, the man indeed stopped, and attempted to yank his arm away; he let out a tortured scream as Lupin tightened his grip in fear.  
  
Severus turned to glare at Remus, still fighting him, his eyes full of hate and pain - it was then that Lupin noticed it, Snape's wrist was literally burning, the skin was scorched in some places, and melting in others.  
  
Before the Werewolf could even let go, Severus grabbed his wand with his free hand and managed to whisper, "Expelliarmus," collapsing to the stone floor at the same time.  
  
Lupin was flung a good way away from the Potions Master, but by the time he recovered, Snape had disappeared. Remus gasped for breath - what magic was that? He had only touched the man for mere seconds, seconds that put him in complete agony... 


End file.
